


Five Times Sam and Tony Understood Each Other

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Banter, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Flying, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Making Up, Past Riley/Sam Wilson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 11:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20814758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: Different stages of the Sam/Tony relationship: sexual tension & competitive training games; talking through what happened in CW and what happened to Rhodey; first date; first big fight; working together as a couple.Art coming soon!





	Five Times Sam and Tony Understood Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes: Includes mental health issues including PTSD, and characters who are very resistant to mental health treatment (and who likely buy into toxic stigmas around mental health). Also includes discussion of grief for Riley, and discussion of Rhodey's injury in CW and self-destructive feelings.
> 
> This is an AU that takes place after CW canon but without Infinity War or Endgame happening.

Tony hovered for a second, scanning the forest below for signs of movement. 

A hit to his back then, as a balloon full of silver and black paint burst against his suit, followed by the sound of Sam laughing. 

Tony turned around mid-air and threw his arms up. “No! No way! Friday always alerts me when there’s someone behind me!” 

Sam shrugged and gave Tony a smirk as his wings kept him steady in the air in front of Tony. “Got anything for me, or you just going to give up?” he yelled, knowing the answer.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t going to use this because I didn’t want Mr. Upright to accuse me of playing dirty, but… since you’re hacking into Friday now….” Tony shifted his voice and said, “Launch Project Iron Paint!”

Paint-filled balloons shot up from the fir trees below, leaving streaks of red and gold across Sam’s arms and torso, a few splatters reaching the side of his face.

“Trees? You rigged the trees?!!” Sam said, laughing despite himself.

“All’s fair in love, war, and training games!” Tony said, leaning in so that he was right in front of Sam as they hovered. He reached out and used his thumb to gently wipe the paint off of Sam’s cheek, leaving just a light smear of red and gold behind. “Besides, you look good in my colors,” he said. 

Tony had meant it as mockery, not flirtation (okay, maybe he meant it as a little bit of both). But he couldn’t help notice that Sam looked a little… like he might be okay with flirtation. 

Also, Sam really did look good in red….

They were both startled then, as their alerts went off.

“Avengers called to action - the game’ll have to wait,” Tony said.

Sam nodded. “It’s halfway across the country - you can get there way sooner on your own - I’ll try and get there as soon as I can.””

“I could give you a ride.”

Sam looked at Tony’s suit. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll fasten you to the suit, is that okay?”

“Sure,” Sam said. He tried not to look too excited at the prospect of seeing what it felt like to fly with a suit like Tony’s - it wouldn’t be good to pump up Tony’s ego too much (and it definitely wasn’t because he was being careful to play it cool).

Tony flew behind Sam then, wrapping his arms around Sam’s shoulders, and said, “Hold still.” Soon, nanobots were expanding Tony’s suit to surround Sam.

As soon as Sam’s face was protected, they took off, soaring at speeds that Sam had never experienced. It was breathtaking, watching the land speed by below, shooting through the air like a rocket. It was exhilarating, almost overwhelming, but… somehow… calm. He felt more free than he could ever remember.

“It’s awesome, right?” Tony said, “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with saying that it’s awesome.”

Sam laughed. “It’s not bad.”

A short while later, there were onsite; a short while after that, they had freed the hostages and captured the hostage-takers. 

“So, I’m taking the plane back,” Tony said, walking next to Sam with his helmet off, “Want a ride?”

“We’re not flying back in your suit?” Sam said with a laugh.

“It was cozy, wasn’t it? Maybe we’ll do that again,” Tony said with a wink, expecting a refusal and another laugh.

“Let’s do it, baby,” Sam said, and winked back. 

“I have to ask, though - how did you get Friday to help you out?” 

Sam shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.”

Tony nodded, discerningly. “I guess you are.”

—

“You should be flattered, you realize,” Sam said, “I don’t let just any man touch my wings.” He put some smile into his voice so it could pass off as a joke.

Tony, for once, didn’t joke back. “I get it. Nobody touches my suit but me. But you’ll like these upgrades.” He continued tinkering with the thruster control at the small of Sam’s back as Sam sat on his lab table. “Like this, for instance - you’ve got beautiful tech already. But when I integrate it with your inertial controls’ information system, and tie it all to a nanoregulator array, you’ll have much more fine-grained control, even in tight spaces.”

Tony sounded focused, but relaxed, as he described the technical details. Sam’s degree was in engineering, so he could follow along - he knew enough, in other words, to know exactly how impressive Tony’s upgrades would be. (He knew that what Tony called an ‘upgrade’ would be called a revolution in human possibility by anyone else). 

“Can I just hold you to adjust the fit of the new components?” Tony asked, hand pointing toward Sam’s hip. “Sure.” Sam tried to keep it professional as Tony gripped his hip lightly to keep him steady as he jostled various new parts into the wing apparatus’ lower section, then moved his hand to Sam’s waist for the upper parts. It was surprisingly comfortable, having Tony work on his suit and wings - his hands moved quickly, but he was always careful, gentle even. 

“And how about the weapons?” Tony said, standing in front of Sam as he sat on the table, hands to either side of Sam as Tony leaned in. If he stepped a little forward, he’d be standing right between Sam’s knees.

“My weapons work just fine,” Sam said, not sure if he wanted to smirk at the double entendre or not - it was kind of corny. But, well, he didn’t like the idea of Tony not knowing that he had damn fine weapons.

“I’ve seen. Do you want to something with a stun function?” 

“That— yeah, actually, that would be really good.” Sam did his best to avoid lethal force, even against his worst enemies, but it wasn’t always an option. 

“It’ll be similar to the low setting on the weapons of my suit,” Tony said, “It’ll knock out someone but that’s it. I mean, they’ll have a bad headache later.”

“I remember,” Sam said, before realizing what he was really bringing out into the open. 

Tony looked up, the quickest flash of pain, and then grimaced, letting casual slide back across his eyes. He stepped back.

“We haven’t really talked about that,” Tony said. “Not that I like talking. But. I mean….”

“We did, though. We’re past that battle. At least I thought,” Sam felt out delicately.

“The bigger battle. But… I. I shouldn’t have shot you, Sam.”

“You stunned me. I’ve been shot. I know the difference.”

“You know what I mean, Sam.” Tony’s shoulders sagged. 

Sam reached out and lightly touched his arm, and Tony looked up, surprised. “Tony, you can’t think I would hold a grudge. But, I mean, I would … understand if _you_ do.”

Tony took a deep breath and moved away from Sam’s hand, but it seemed like he was just composing himself. “I know that what happened to Rhodes wasn’t your fault. I mean, if it was your fault then it was his and mine and Vision’s and…. Anyway, I know it wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Sam had heard enough about Tony to know that he didn’t apologize. Maybe to the press, with a wink and a laugh so that everyone knew he didn’t mean it. But not like this, open and waiting. But still, Sam couldn't quite wrap his head around one part of it.

“What do you mean 'yours'?” Sam asked. 

Tony looked confused. “I didn’t realize that Vision was capable of being distracted. I just… assumed he was just JARVIS with a body. If I had bothered to understand Vision better, I could have prevented it.” 

“Tony. You can’t think that not solving every possible problem before it happens makes you personally to blame for every bad thing that happens.”

Tony looked annoyed, but as usual, shrugged off his anger with a smartass comment (like so many vets Sam has known). “Look, if you’re going to psychoanalyze me, then maybe I will hold a grudge.”

Sam gave a small laugh. 

“But really, I know it’s not your fault what happened.”

“It was, partly. We all played a dangerous game, and I’m the immediate reason friendly fire almost killed him.”

“…. I just meant, sorry, for, you know.” For knocking Sam the hell out. While they were kneeling next to Rhodey, while Sam was about to burst into tears, while he was apologizing to Tony, imploring him. 

Sam reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand. He didn’t know how to say that in that moment, Sam thought he had killed Rhodey. He had done to Rhodey what that missile had done to Riley. He had done to Tony what that missile had done to Sam. 

In that moment, Sam had wanted nothing more than to lose consciousness. It was a mercy.

But Tony clearly didn’t need to hear that. “Look, Tony. I… I’m going to tell you something. And then I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe someday, but not today. Okay?”

Tony nodded.

“Tony, I know exactly what it’s like to watch your best friend fall from the sky. I know exactly how it feels to rush to save and get there one fucking second before impact. _I know_.” Sam held back tears. “So I understand everything you did. And I don’t need any apologies from you. Okay?”

Tony slowly nodded. 

They said nothing for a minute.

“So. Stun guns in your elbow pack?” Tony said.

“Hook me up, genius boy.”

Tony gave him the smallest of smiles.

—

“Operas are the worst.”

“Nobody’s forcing you to go, Tony.”

“Actually, Pepper’s forcing me to go. The tickets were a gift from a politician I have to make nice with. Something about not publicly accusing them of corruption and stupidity.”

“You poor, oppressed person. How do you cope.”

“Exactly. So yes or no?”

“What?”

“Yes or no? Coming with?”

“Uhhh… sure? Wait, do I need a tux?”

“I’ll have one sent. I’m really good at knowing people’s sizes.”

“That’s both impressive and disturbing."

Tony grinned. “Impressive but disturbing is kind of my brand.”

The opera was as terrible as Tony had predicted. Sam was actually hoping for some Puccini or Verdi or Bizet, but instead it was an new and original hyperminimalist opera consisting mostly of the alto holding one note for three minutes at a time. It was very technically difficult, Sam was sure. That was the nicest he could say about it.

Luckily, Tony decided at intermission that he had done enough political gladhanding and they could leave. 

“We both forgot our umbrella, looks like,” Sam said as he held his program over his head to shied it from the rain. Tony just shrugged, so Sam rolled his eyes, grabbed Tony’s program and held both over their heads so they’d be dry.

“How about some espresso? There’s a place around the corner that does a great tarte tatin.” 

“Espresso?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you like delicious wonderful things. I mean, your call.”

Sam smiled. “Tony. Is this… a date?”

“…Do you want it to be a date?”

Sam tried very hard not to laugh. Not at Tony, exactly. But the idea that billionaire playboy icon Tony Stark was acting like a nervous teenager was…kind of adorable.

Sam dropped the programs, which were soaked through anyway. He leaned in and kissed Tony, warm and sweet. They parted, then looked at each other. Sam moved a wet curl off of Tony’s forehead. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Tony said, then moved back in. 

“Definitely—” Sam barely got out before Tony was kissing him again, hard, his hands holding Sam’s face. Sam moved his hands to Tony’s waist, bringing their bodies together, and Tony’s mouth, and yeah Tony’s tongue was at the very top of things that were genius about Tony Stark, moved down to Sam’s jawline, then neck.

They stood there for a moment, in the gray night, water pouring down on them as they gripped each other tight. 

“Tony. Tony!!” Sam said, realizing how out of breath, how wrecked, he sounded.

Tony looked up, his eyes dark, eager. "Yeah?"

“Tony, would you like to come over to my place?”

Tony grinned. He leaned in and whispered in Sam’s ear, “I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”

Sam smiled but said, “Don’t be cocky.”

“I bet you love it when I’m cocky.” He nibbled on Sam’s ear and then leaned back, looked Sam up and down, and licked his lips.

“Actually, it’s the only thing about you that I don’t.” Sam had meant that as a snappy comeback but somehow Tony’s face just melted in a smile, like it was the nicest thing he’d ever heard.

He did make breakfast in the morning, true to his word. The omelet wasn’t great, but Sam figured it was the thought that counts.

\--

Their lives fit together easily, which was a big surprise to them both. They each had duties that took them far and wide and neither ever resented the other for it. They enjoyed cozy nights in when they could, and get-togethers with their friends too. 

Evenings were for takeout and TV while cuddling in bed - hey watched every type of Star Trek for the umpteenth time, but this time they got to watch together. Then they moved on to Farscape, at Tony’s request, and then Stargate: Atlantis, at Sam’s. Other nights, they would each read books and just sprawl on each other in bed or on the couch, enjoying some good reading. Sometimes Netflix or reading night would be interrupted by Avengers business or one of Sam’s vets at the VA or just an idea that Tony absolutely had to work on before he forgot, but that was fine too. They settled into a nice pattern without much to-do.

It was easier than it should have been. Which is why it hit so hard when they had their first big fight.

“Thai food,” Sam said, putting the bags on the table.

“I know why Friday helped you,” Tony said.

“Okay….”

“In the woods. That day when we were training. You sneaked up behind me. Friday let you.”

“You’re still mad about a training game?”

“You sent Friday a bunch of articles about PTSD and asked if anyone she knew fit those characteristics. Then she contacted you to tell you I did. But obviously you wanted that to happen, or you wouldn’t have told my AI.”

“I didn’t do that to win a game, Tony.”

“Yeah, I know. Friday told you that I refused treatment, and you told her to call you over if things got ‘really bad’ with me. Ever since then, Friday just loves you. I was fixing a glitch in some of her code and I found out everything!”

“And you’re upset that I’m friends with Friday now?”

“You know damn well why I’m upset. Were you just pretending to be friends so you could keep an eye on me? Or do you think it’s okay that I have a shrink when I thought I was getting a boyfriend? Or am I supposed to be totally cool with you and Friday conspiring to spy on me?”

“I didn’t spy. I said that she could call if she or you needed me.”

“Nobody needs you,” Tony muttered, then waited, clearly expecting some sort of angry retort.

Sam sighed. He knew from his VA work that some people would rather lash out than have a conversation about the real problem. A lot of people, actually. But there was no way of telling someone - and especially not Tony - that they weren’t all that unique after all, at least not when it comes to their denial.

“Fine. Be pissed. But I’m glad we’re talking about it. Because I’ve wanted to for a while.”

“And I told you, nobody needs your fucking affirmations and shit.”

“It’s not affirmations, and you would see a therapist and not your boyfriend about it OBVIOUSLY, and it doesn’t make you weak to—”

“Fuck right off!”

“Back at you!” Sam said, then closed his eyes. This was not going where he wanted. He was so damn good at this usually, at not letting a chip on the other guy’s shoulder get in the way of support. 

“Why are you even here, Sam? You got a fetish for saving damaged goods?”

“You’re not damaged goods, and I don’t — you know what, you’re being totally unfair and you know it.”

“Like you’re any better. Fixing everyone else you don’t have to address your own shit. You think I need help, but at least I tell you about the shit that keeps me up at night. You won’t even tell me about Riley.”

Sam stayed perfectly still.

Tony kept going. “You basically break every time something reminds you of him. You’ll say how he died. But not what he was to you. Any of your good memories. So who’s the repressed one? Who’s the one who’s not dealing with his issues?”

Sam really, really wanted to hit back, to say something that would hurt Tony. He felt like he was being gutpunched, like the surprise of it was making it hard to see straight. But he told himself that this moment mattered too much, that he had to remember what Tony was really saying. 

“Tony. I talk to a therapist twice a week. I don’t tell you that you have issues and pretend I don’t have any, okay?” Sam’s voice was low but he was clearly taking pains to control his tone. 

Tony, for once, looked at a loss for words. 

Sam took the opportunity to turn around and walk out before the escalation got worse.

They didn’t talk for two days.

It hurt like hell.

Finally, Sam got a text. 

**Text from Tony:** Sorry.

**Text from Sam:** me too

**Text from Tony:** can i see u 

**Text from Sam:** I’ll bring dinner to your place

Sam waited as the dots indicated that Tony was composing a reply, wondering how long the text was going to be. Finally, after about 10 minutes of worrying what Tony was going to say, it came:

**Text from Tony:** thx

Sam really wished he knew what had been deleted, but he didn’t ask. He came over that evening and they ate together. After, they sat in the living room, just like normal. 

“So. I’m seeing someone about the thing,” Tony said.

“That sounds good,” Sam said, carefully not sounding like gloating.

“Since you insisted. I’m not sure if it will do anything.”

“Nothing wrong with giving something new a try.”

Tony shrugged but then grabbed a book on physics off the coffee table and opened it up to where he left off. Sam took the hint and did the same with his latest favorite history book. Even if it was awkward, it was good that they were both trying to get to normal. Whatever else they needed to work on, they could do that when the trust and warmth felt a little less bruised. 

Eventually Tony shifted so he was lying down on the couch, his head resting on Sam’s thigh. It was so familiar, so intimate after the two days apart, that Sam’s chest hurt. He had to admit - the thought, no matter how faint, that they might not work this out had been tearing him apart. And now he knew that Tony had felt the same. 

Sam went back to his book, running his fingers gently through Tony’s hair as he read. 

After a few minutes, Tony sat back up. “You know, you, Cap, and Pepper are the only people I’ve ever taken orders from. Just so you know.” Tony was carefully keeping his face neutral, as if he were just curious to see how Sam would react.

There were, of course, about fifty things wrong with that statement – most notably the idea that gently telling someone that they might sleep better if they saw a psychologist amounted to giving an “order.” 

But Sam knew what Tony was trying to say. 

“You mean the world to me too, Tony.”

“Pfft. Keep it in your pants,” Tony said . But then he leaned in to kiss Sam on the cheek, and Sam smiled, relief and amusement and infatuation and utter fucking devotion all in one.

Yeah. Sam wasn’t ever going to escape his love for Tony Stark.

Good thing he didn’t want to.

—

_One year later…_

It was supposed to be small and simple. They both agreed.

Steve was his Best Man, and Natasha, Wanda, and Scott were his groomspeople. Rhodey was Tony’s best man, and Happy, Vision, and Bruce were his groomspeople. Pepper was officiating.

Just a few friends would come. Sam’s family of course, and Sharon, Clint, Peter and May, Okoye, Shuri (T’Challa had matters of state to deal with), Jane, Helen, Stephen, Wong, Fury, Phil, Melinda, a few others. 

A short simple ceremony on the beach. Some sandwiches and burgers after. That’s it. Just a nice, sweet simple event with the people they loved most. 

Somehow, it ended up involving three large fountains (champagne, chocolate, and cognac), a swan ice sculpture the size of a house, live performances from both the Rolling Stones and Rihanna, and the largest fireworks display on the continent. 

It wasn’t until they were on the plane returning from their honeymoon in New Orleans that they finally figured it out.

Steve and Rhodey. Their best men had hoped they would be groomzillas that would go over the top, and when they didn’t, they got together to make it happen themselves.

“No way they did all that planning themselves, though. I mean, things were ridiculously over the top but still basically elegant,” Sam said.

“Agreed. Pepper must have helped them.” 

“And Natasha, I bet.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Tony muttered.

“Trust me, Steve is a shit liar. No way he kept this under wraps without tips from Natasha. Hell, they probably recruited everyone to help them.”

“Well, that was very sweet of all of them. Very, very sweet,” Tony said.

“Yes, agreed. Very sweet. We have the most wonderful, sweetest, most generous friends…. So, what will our revenge be?”

“I already made a list of ideas!”

“So did I!”

Tony smiled, wide as ever. “We’re being an awesome husband-team already!”

“I knew we would be.”


End file.
